


Cloths of Heaven

by loxleyprince



Category: Garrison's Gorillas
Genre: Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Sexual Content, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:59:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loxleyprince/pseuds/loxleyprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Actor and Chief are sent on a mission to Venice during Carnival. </p><p>Please note - this is a slash story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cloths of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Carnevale in Venice was actually suspended during WW2, but I chose to overlook that fact when writing this story so Actor and Chief could dress up in traditional carnival costumes. I hope you will forgive the historical inaccuracy. (The punctuation and grammer mistakes are a different matter entirely.) 
> 
> The altar paid for by the Poultry Guild and featuring the Madonna with chickens is in the church of San Giovanni Elemosinario in Venice.
> 
> This is the first GG story I've written.

_Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,_  
 _Enwrought with golden and silver light,_  
 _The blue and the dim and the dark cloths_  
 _Of night and light and the half light,_  
 _I would spread the cloths under your feet:_  
 _But I, being poor, have only my dreams;_  
 _I have spread my dreams under your feet;_  
 _Tread softly because you tread on my dreams._

_William Butler Yeats_

 

“There must be some mistake, Warden.”

Garrison blinked in surprise. Whilst he’d anticipated a number of reactions from Actor, ranging from warm enthusiasm to outright exuberance, he certainly hadn’t anticipated this reserved, almost reproachful, response. He checked the orders in front of him. “That’s what it says. You’re to collect the microfilm from our agent at the Ponte della Tette, Venice, at 2200 on Thursday night.” His Italian second was still looking at him like he’d grown two heads and he had no idea why. 

“The Ponte delle Tette?” Actor questioned again, his brow creasing into a frown. 

“Yes,” Garrison confirmed patiently. “Look, I thought you’d jump at this one. Venice during Carnival? I thought it'd be right up your street.” 

“Under different circumstances, I can assure you that it would have been,” the older man agreed. When it was clear that he was not going to elaborate further, Garrison sighed. 

“Okay, let’s hear it.” The Lieutenant’s voice was characteristically soft, but no less authoritative for that fact. “What is it about this mission you don’t like?” 

The other Gorillas watched the exchange with undisguised interest. It was rare to see the normally imperturbable con-man so thoroughly disconcerted and they all wanted to know why. 

“The Ponte delle Tette is at the centre of a notorious red-light district,” Actor explained. “At the best of times it is an insalubrious area to frequent. During Carnevale it is positively dangerous, unsuspecting marks frequently falling prey to gangs of professional thieves.” 

Casino laughed loudly. “Hey, baby, you just don’t want anyone thinking you gotta pay for it!”

Actor eyed the safecracker with disdain. “Casino, just once could you drag your mind out of the gutter? I appreciate that it will be quite a task for you but, just once, could you at least try?” 

Casino was unabashed. “If it’s safe enough for hookers, how dangerous can it be?” 

Actor ignored him and turned back to face his commander, who was working hard to keep a smile from his face. The young officer raised his hands in a gesture of appeasement. “Look, you’ll have Chief along. That’ll even the odds.” He glanced at the team's safe-cracker and the corners of his lips twitched up in amusement. “Though Casino has a point. If the place is safe enough for prostitution, how bad can it be?”  


Actor stiffened; clearly affronted. He drew himself up to his full and impressive height before replying.

“During Carnevale, the only prostitutes at the Ponte delle Tette are male. If I take Chief with me, it will be assumed that he is a one of them and that I am his pimp. I will be fighting men off him with a stick and, believe me when I tell you that, that is an added complication I would rather do without.” He watched as his words hit home, unsurprised to see the youngest member of their unusual team bristle. Chief pushed himself off the windowsill and Actor braced himself for the assault. 

“Can take care of myself,” Chief growled angrily. “And you, if I gotta!”

“Chief goes with you, Actor.” Garrison’s tone brooked no objection. The briefing was not going well and the officer knew that he needed to defuse the growing tension between the two men before the situation degenerated further. “You need someone to watch your back.” 

“Your butt more like!” Casino hooted crudely. “Jesus!” 

Chief’s switchblade had embedded itself in the arm of the chair a mere inch from Casino’s right hand. The hot-tempered New Yorker launched himself at the young Indian, only to be hauled back into his seat by Actor. Chief had set off towards Casino as soon as he’d released his knife, but now found himself restrained by an irate Garrison who was only marginally hampered by the sling on his arm. When Chief struggled to evade him, it took just one, hissed intake of breath from the officer for all resistance to cease. 

“You okay?” Chief asked quietly, his earlier anger replaced by concern for his injured commander. 

Garrison released his grip on the young man. “Yeah. Just cool it, okay?” 

Chief nodded. Without so much as a glance at Casino, he retrieved his knife and retook his seat at the window, deliberately turning his back to the other occupants of the room. Although his eyes restlessly scanned the mansion grounds, his attention remained firmly focused on the conversation inside the room. 

“Say, Warden,” Casino called. “I speak the lingo. If I hadn’t busted my ankle, would I be going instead of Chief?” 

Goniff rolled his eyes. “Hardly, mate! With that face, they’d be hitting you with a stick just to keep you away and wondering where Actor’d left his guide-dog.” 

“Why you lousy, low-down, limey...!” Casino started to lever himself out of the armchair again but Goniff was far too quick for him. Snatching Casino’s crutches from where they’d been resting against the arm of the chair, the little thief held one in each hand and waved them triumphantly at the safecracker. “Temper! Temper! I can say what I like ‘cos you can’t get me without these!” He ducked as a pack of cards narrowly missed his head. 

“Pack it in, you two,” Garrison said wearily. Goniff waggled the crutches one last time and smiled triumphantly. Casino glared back at him, muttering curses. 

“Goniff?” Garrison waited until he had the thief’s undivided attention before continuing. “That cast comes off his ankle next week.” He saw the smile drain from the Englishman’s face and fought to keep a smile from his own. 

“’Ere mate, I was only larking about,” Goniff grinned apologetically at Casino as he propped the crutches against the New Yorker’s chair. He all but ran to put the large table between himself and the safecracker, just in case Casino decided to retaliate. 

The New Yorker smiled expansively and settled himself more comfortably into the armchair. “Oh! Now you’re sorry! Well, you’re gonna pay for that, baby.” 

Wincing, a suitably chastened Goniff re-took his seat. Garrison watched the exchange with amusement. Casino had a temper on him, but he didn’t hold grudges against the other members of the team. Casino would no more hurt Goniff than any of the others would. He turned his attention back to Actor. 

“Yes or no, Actor? I need an answer.” 

“As I said before,” Actor replied. “It would be better if I went alone.” 

Garrison shook his head. “No way. Either you both go, or I take the mission.” Chief’s head snapped round, a look of shock on his face, and his reaction was matched by Actor. The Italian rounded on his commander, his handsome features marred by distress and disbelief. “But you are wounded! You cannot seriously expect to complete...” 

“Yes or no, Actor?” Garrison interrupted.

“I’m in,” Chief said from the windowsill. 

Garrison watched as the emotions warred on his second’s face and willed him to make the right decision. The very future of their team could depend on it. 

With an exasperated sigh, Actor nodded. “Very well. I will take the mission.” 

“Thank you.” Garrison gathered up the papers and photographs he’d laid out on the table during the briefing. “I’ll leave these with you. Stop by my office tonight. I’ll have your papers and travel documents by then.” 

Actor’s “Very well” was echoed by Chief’s “Sure, Warden.” 

Actor took the file Garrison was holding out to him. It was clear to the young commander that the Italian was still far from happy with arrangements. 

“Look, Actor. It’s Carnival. You’ll be wearing costumes, right?” Garrison’s tone was conciliatory, suspiciously disarming. Actor nodded stiffly. 

“So dress him ugly.” 

Garrison held his second’s gaze, impervious to the waves of anger being directed his way, then headed for the relative safety of his office. Actor made a pretence of studying the contents of the folder but his attention was inexorably drawn to the still, silent figure sitting at the window. He sighed heavily, unable to concentrate on the documents.

_Dear God, what have I agreed to?_

***

The manager of the Grissini Hotel in Venice greeted Actor like a long-lost relative. Being a portly man of no more than five foot four, the disparity in height between the two Italians lent the obligatory exchange of continental kisses more than the usual element of farce, but there was no denying the obvious affection that the little hotel proprietor felt for Actor. 

“And this is my good friend, Wolf,” Actor spoke in English as he introduced Chief. “Wolf, this is a very old and very dear friend, Guido Contando.” The little Italian opened his arms expansively, but was stopped in his tracks by a withering glare of disapproval from the young man. Frowning, Guido looked to Actor for both guidance and enlightenment. 

“Wolf is originally from America, but now a Swiss citizen. He is my bodyguard,” the elegant con-man explained. He watched as the little man’s eyes widened and then his face broke into a knowing smile. 

“Ah, your… companion.” The statement, spoken in Italian, held more than a hint of question. 

“Not in that way,” Actor replied quietly in the same language. 

The little manager looked from one man to the other. 

“And he would be most affronted if you were to say so,” Actor continued. “He is my employee and friend, Guido. Nothing more.” Actor kept all trace of wistfulness from his voice, for Guido had known him all his life. It would take very little for him to guess the truth. 

“Of course, my friend. I understand,” Guido reassured him with a smile. “He is a beauty, is he not? Always they are beautiful, no?” The little man’s eyes were alight with amusement as he looked the handsome youth up and down appraisingly. “And so fierce!” he continued, eyes wide with mock fear. 

Actor rolled his eyes and then smiled back at him. Guido was an unconscionable flirt. The hotel manager turned to the ornate cupboard behind the reception desk and removed a pair of keys. After informing one of his assistants that he would be showing these guests to their suite personally, he walked round to join Actor and Chief in front of the desk. 

“Please follow me. When I heard that you were coming, I reserved our best rooms for you. The Compte D’Allenzi was mortified to find them unavailable but, for you, I wanted nothing but the best.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “And that man’s third wife is a harpie. A harpie, I tell you!” He broke off to offer a welcome to a couple who were also guests of the hotel. Chief noticed that whilst the greeting was sincere, it didn’t hold a fraction of the warmth that Actor’s had. 

“Now tell me something,” Guido spoke conspiratorially to Actor as they walked towards the elevator. 

“... this Wolf of yours...” Guido's eyes twinkled with mischief. 

"... does he bite?”

***

The room Guido led them into was unlike anything Chief had ever seen before. From floor to ceiling, the walls were covered with cream-coloured silk. Ornate paintings hung on one wall, the others covered with huge, silver-encrusted mirrors which scattered the light around the room until the place sparkled like a treasure-chest. A huge glass chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the richly-painted beams that criss-crossed it and further adding to the effect. He’d thought the mansion had been impressive, but this place was something else. Everything in the room was both luxurious and beautiful. Chief could scarcely bring himself to walk on the sumptuous oriental carpet that covered the floor. He felt out of place, uncomfortable. He’d probably need to bathe before he even sat down on any of the furniture…

Actor, naturally, seemed instantly at home amidst the grandeur, although his thanks to his old friend were nevertheless profuse. “Guido, you did not have to do this!” His voice held genuine warmth. “Thank you!” 

Guido turned to look at the man he had known from childhood, the son of his dearest friend, and smiled gently before replying in their native Italian. “Nothing could be too good for you. You know I love you dearly.” 

“As you loved my mother,” Actor smiled back. “She, too, would have thanked you.” 

Guido nodded fondly.“ And would she not have rolled her eyes in disbelief at my present position?” he teased. “Would she not have been shocked to find me finally respectable?” He saw a shadow cross the handsome face of the man he had long thought of as a son and knew that his words, though well meant, had hurt him.

“She would have been proud of you, Guido,” Actor said quietly. “So very proud.” 

_Ah_ thought the little man. _So that was it._ “She loved you greatly, ‘Torio,” he said by way of apology, using the childhood name, wanting to make amends for the distress he had inadvertently caused. “Never forget that.” He saw his young friend’s face set and sadly changed the subject. “Come, now I shall show you the balcony. The views of the Chiesa di Santa Maria Delle Salute are unparalleled.” He strode to one of the windows and, drawing back the heavy brocade drapes, threw open the French doors behind. The doors opened out on to a wide terrace overlooking the Grand Canal. The graceful silhouette of the great church of Santa Maria Delle Salute was breath-taking against the rays of the setting sun. 

“Magnificent! Truly magnificent!” Actor said as he followed Guido out onto the balcony. 

Chief was the last one out and the vista took his breath away. The whole place was fascinating. There were so many questions he wanted to ask and he knew that Actor would delight in answering all of them. His chest ached and he sighed at the familiar pain. 

_Actor. Things were gettin’ worse._

While Guido and Actor chatted amiably, Chief surreptitiously studied his friend and his thoughts drifted back to the day they’d first met. He’d disliked and mistrusted the suave Italian on sight, pegging him as an over-educated, arrogant, egotist of a dandy who’d be lucky to survive their first mission. 

He’d been wrong. 

Even that first time out he’d developed a grudging respect for the man’s steely nerve, his quick mind, and his undeniable talent. When it came to cons, Actor was in a class of his own. Respect had become admiration in the months that followed, when the sophisticated Italian had shown a very different side to his nature. Actor cared, very much, about the safety and welfare of the team and when they got into trouble, the Warden included, Actor was invariably the one who got them out. 

Admiration had turned to wary trust the night Actor had approached him with a school primer and asked if he’d like help to improve his reading and writing. The offer had shocked Chief. His reaction to it, sadly, had not. He’d run. Snarled something crude about Actor’s motives and left the room at a run. Only when he was alone had he actually stopped to think about Actor’s offer - think about it and realise how desperately he’d wanted to say yes. How impossible that was now, because he’d screwed-up and run. His first instinct when cornered – always - to run.

The next day Actor’d treated him like nothing had happened. Like it couldn’t have hurt to have his offer thrown back in his face, only Chief knew it must have, but Actor hadn’t held it against him. 

It’d taken Chief a week to pluck up the courage to approach the con man again and the stammered apology had been every bit as awkward as he’d imagined, but Actor had smiled at him and accepted the apology with his usual good grace and, to Chief’s utter amazement, renewed the offer. 

Chief had accepted immediately. 

After that, they’d spent much of their free time together and, under Actor’s patient tuition, Chief had blossomed. The worldly con man was never too busy to answer the multitude of questions the young Indian always had about the places they went, the things they saw, the world that Actor was so comfortable in, but which was so very alien to Chief. 

He’d learnt so much from Actor.

And somewhere along the line… he’d fallen in love with him. 

Problem was, Actor wasn’t into love. Romance and sex, yes. But love? The forsaking-all-others-til-death-us-do-part kind of love? Actor wasn’t into that at all. Not that he needed to be. There wasn’t a being alive Actor couldn’t have if he set his mind to it and that was the problem. For Actor, the thrill was all in the chase. Once he’d sighted his quarry he’d pursue it with single-minded determination until he had it cornered and could bring it down. Then, after a few weeks of passionate indulgence, the prey would be released. 

Always. 

No matter how beautiful or how keen, how desirable or devoted, they’d be loved-up and let go. 

Always.

Chief’d seen it happen time and again. He still hadn’t figured out how Actor did it - stayed on good terms with his lovers. Some he even went back to from time to time but never for more than a one-night stand. Serial monogamy, Goniff called it, and he said Actor had it down pat. Casino reckoned the man was in love with falling in love. Once that thrill had passed, the man simply lost interest. Commitment wasn’t a word in the handsome Italian’s impressively extensive vocabulary. 

_Hadn’t been in his either_ , Chief acknowledged wryly, _before Actor’d taken him in hand. Taught him._

He smiled sadly to himself. _Weren’t no way he was gonna be a notch on Actor’s belt._ Mentally, he corrected his grammar, could almost hear Actor’s voice saying the words, as he would have done, had he heard and had they been alone. 

_There was no way he was going to be another notch on Actor’s belt._

And that’s where it all went to hell in a hand-basket. 

Chief wanted the man so badly, it hurt. 

He just didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t want to ruin the friendship that’d become so important to him, but at the same time he couldn’t deny the attraction. Not for the first time he wished he could talk to someone about it. _Weren’t like – wasn’t_ \- he mentally corrected - _like he could talk to the Warden – man’d have a fit and send him straight back to the slammer._ He’d have to figure out what to do on his own.

Like get Actor somewhere private and fuck it out of his system. 

_Damn, that sounded good. He’d dreamed some pretty wild shit about the man..._

He sighed heavily, immediately drawing Actor’s gaze to him. 

“Wolf?” Actor’s voice was rich and warm, as Chief would always remember it. Now, also tinged with concern. “Is something wrong?”

Chief schooled his face and gazed at the distant horizon and shook his head. “Just tired.” He turned to face the hotel manager and smiled shyly. “This sure is some place, Guido. Thanks, man.” 

Guido beamed. _This was not one who smiled often. And how his eyes shone when he looked at Vittorio and thought himself unobserved. Such softness also in Vittorio’s gaze. So strange that they were not lovers...._ Shaking himself from his speculation he gestured back towards the room. 

“Now I will show you the bedrooms and then, alas, I must return to my duties.” He turned to step through the French doors, only to stop abruptly and swing round to face them again. “The Masque! You will, of course, attend the Masque, will you not?” His eyes lit up with excitement.

Actor replied in the affirmative and Guido clapped his hands animatedly. “Splendid!! You will need costumes. I shall arrange them for you.” Head on one side, he eyed Actor appraisingly. “Something regal, in blue for you I think. I will send someone to take your measurements.” His hand stroked his chin as he turned his attention to the young American. “And for you…” He looked the handsome youth up and down and savoured the view. _So beautiful. So perfect for ‘Torio, who had always loved beauty in all its forms._ “I have it!” The words fairly exploded from him. 

Actor cut him off before he could continue. 

“He will dress as Pulcinella.” 

Guido spun round to face him, his hands clamped to his cheeks, a look of abject horror on his face. “Certainly not!” he said in aggrieved Italian. “He is so beautiful. So handsome. Absolutely not! I will only dress him if he looks beautiful. Sublime! _Divine!_ ” He glared indignantly at Actor. “Torio, please! I have a reputation to maintain!”

 _So have I_ , thought Actor. “It will be for his own good,” he replied in Italian, pointedly ignoring the frown that immediately came to Chief’s face. He knew the young man would not appreciate being talked about in a language he did not understand. 

“But he will be _ugly!_ ” Guido all but shouted at him. “No one will look at him! No one will _want_ him!!” 

Chief had no idea what was being said, but found the tears in the little man’s eyes more than a little disturbing. 

“That is precisely my intention,” Actor explained patiently. 

“Oh!” Guido was totally deflated. _Vittorio wanted Wolf to look ugly? But why? Oh. Ohhh! Vittorio only wanted the youth to look beautiful for_ him! Guido brightened immediately. “I understand. Leave it to me.” 

Actor eyed him suspiciously. “Guido?” he said slowly. 

The little man held up his hand imperiously. “The ugliest Pulcinella I can find. Bene! It shall be done.” He switched back to English. “Alora, I show you the bedrooms.” He spun on his heels before Actor could question him further. 

“What was that about?” Chief asked as they re-entered the suite. 

“You do not want to know,” Actor muttered with feeling. Chief would find out all too soon and then he would have another fight on his hands. He sighed heavily. 

Perhaps Guido would not be working that day.

***

“Ain’t wearin’ that!”

Chief’s voice was angrily rebellious, which perfectly matched his mood. Guido held the unflattering costume at arm’s length and eyed it with undisguised disgust. He arched a brow at Actor and his expression fairly screamed “I told you so!” Actor studiously ignored him and gritted his teeth, slowly counting to ten. 

“You will be wearing a mask. It is not as though anyone will recognise you. It is not as though anyone who knows you will be there.” He tried to keep his voice even, his arguments reasoned, though it took an effort to keep his exasperation from showing. He had known that Chief would resist this. In a similar position (and with nothing at stake) he knew that he would have done the same and Chief was almost as vain as he was. However, they had a mission to complete and Chief needed to blend in with the crowd. His sensitivities were irrelevant. 

“It was the Warden who suggested that you dress down. Please, be reasonable.” 

Chief eyed him murderously for attempting to implicate his idol in the debacle. Throwing himself into one of the ornate, velvet-covered chairs, the scout deliberately pushed it back so that it balanced precariously on its rear legs. The chair creaked ominously in protest. Seemingly impervious to its distress, Chief lifted his legs to rest his booted feet on the exquisite hand-painted table in front of him. 

“That, ain’t reasonable.” Chief pointed at the costume with his thumb, deliberately screwing his grammar, knowing how it would irritate the other man. He folded his arms across his chest and braced himself for a fight.

“Isn’t reasonable,” Actor corrected unconsciously, more angry than he would admit. His lips contracted into a thin line. The chair and table were expensive antiques, as Chief well knew, for Actor had described each of the pieces in the room to him in some detail. The tall Italian had not needed to turn to hear Guido’s sharp intake of breath at the irreverent treatment of the valuable furniture to know that he, too, was horrified, although he knew that the man would be far too polite to comment. Actor was appalled by Chief’s thoughtlessness and deeply disappointed by his behaviour. 

He glared pointedly at Chief’s feet and then at the scout’s face and waited. Chief glared back insolently and made no attempt to move. 

Actor could bear it no longer. “Guido, please leave us,” he said quietly in Italian. “We will talk again later.” 

His friend laid the hated costume over the back of a velvet-covered sofa and fled. 

When they were alone, Actor turned back to face Chief. “Please take your feet off that table, and stand, if you cannot sit properly.” 

A furious Chief spoke without thinking. “Never had no father, Actor. Sure don’t need one now.” 

The moment the words were out of his mouth he wanted to take them back. The blood drained from Actor’s face and he looked away, jaw set, nostrils flaring. The silence that followed was the longest in Chief’s life. 

When Actor spoke again there was no anger in his voice, only weary regret, which made Chief feel even worse. “Both the table and the chair are valuable antiques. Any damage to them would be deducted from Guido’s salary. It would be a poor way to repay him for his generosity and kindness, do you not think?”

Chief swallowed hard and removed his feet from the table, returning the front feet of the chair to the floor in the process. Rising, he went to stand by the window, his back to Actor. 

He hadn’t thought. Just let his anger get the better of him. _Shit! It was just a costume!_ They had a job to do! Should be working together – not fighting over what to wear. Actor was right. Guido didn’t deserve this shit. 

Actor didn’t deserve it either. He’d given Chief so much, taught him to believe in himself, believe that he could turn his life around and make a future for himself. Chief turned back to face Actor, the apology already on his lips, but Actor cut him off. 

“Don’t, Chief. Please do not say anything that we will both regret.” He turned away and picked up his coat. “I am going out. I need to familiarise myself with the area where I will make contact with our agent. Talk to Guido. He will arrange another costume for you.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Chief said, reaching for his jacket. 

Actor shook his head. “I would prefer to go alone.” His hand was already on the door handle. 

“Warden said I gotta watch your back.” It sounded so lame, Chief could have kicked himself. He wasn’t doing this because the Warden said so. He wanted to watch Actor’s back. Wanted to keep him safe. 

“Yes, he did,” Actor replied quietly, “which is why I chose an unobtrusive costume for you, so that you would blend in with the other revellers. I want us both to complete this mission in safety." Actor’s voice was devoid of emotion. “At this time of day there will be little danger. I shall be fine. I will not be long.” 

“I’m sorry.” Chief blurted the words out. He couldn’t bear to have Actor walk out and not hear them. “Actor, I’m sorry.”

Actor sighed heavily. He turned to look at his young friend, his face still showing his disappointment and regret. 

“As am I, Chief. I will not be long.” 

With that he was gone, leaving a stunned Chief to sink back down onto the chair. 

_Fuck!_

***

Actor walked for the better part of an hour before it even occurred to him to wonder where he was, and where _that_ was in relation to where he was supposed to be. He sighed heavily and sank down onto a bench in a corner of a large market square. Massaging the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, he tried to dispel the throbbing headache that had developed while he was walking.

He had over-reacted to Chief’s words and he needed to analyse why. 

When the team had first been formed, it had amused him to demonstrate his superior knowledge to the others. Even now, it never failed to get a rise from Casino. Actor had not expected any of the team to actually listen to what he had to say. He had never expected any of them to want to better themselves. 

But Chief had. 

Tentatively at first. Shyly. Then, once he realised that Actor would not ridicule him for his ignorance, eagerly, which was when Actor had found himself revising his opinion of the young man. Far from being stupid, Chief was a quick study and had an extremely sharp mind. He had lacked only the opportunity, not the aptitude, to learn. His appetite for knowledge was all but insatiable and Actor had been more than happy to feed it, delighting in his student’s enthusiasm and warming to his role of teacher. He had taken great pride in Chief’s accomplishments: his so very determined attempts to turn his life around. 

And, just like Pygmalion before him, Actor had fallen hopelessly in love with his creation.

Unexpectedly. Unintentionally. Utterly.

He could never let Chief know. The young scout did not give his trust easily, but Actor was one of the few people on whom he had bestowed that precious gift, and he would never abuse that trust. Unfortunately, that did not stop him wanting Chief, nor did it assuage the fire that coursed through his blood at the thought of what it would be like to love him, what it would be like to make love to him. 

_Chief in his bed._ He fought back a moan. _The things he would do to him, the sounds he would drag from his beautiful throat, the passionate responses he would draw from that exquisite body…_

He felt his groin tighten and shifted on the bench to ease his constricted erection. Digging his beautifully manicured fingernails into the palms of his hands, he tried to ground himself again. How ironic that he, who had loved and left countless lovers without remorse or regret, should now find himself in love with someone so utterly unattainable. He had hoped that this mission would provide an opportunity to regain his sense of perspective. It was important that he balanced his own needs with those of Chief. He knew that he was good for Chief and that the young Indian still needed his guidance and worldly wisdom. 

Chief had not meant what he had said. He should have simply accepted Chief’s apology and allowed the young man to accompany him. That would have been the rational thing to do - the calculated, logical, unemotional thing to do. They were in occupied territory, Chief did not speak the language, and Actor had effectively abandoned him in their hotel room, had left him behind because he could not bear the thought that Chief saw him as some sort of father-figure. 

There was nothing fatherly about how he saw Chief. 

He sighed again. He should not have allowed his feelings to interfere with the mission. Such lapses increased the danger for all concerned, Chief included, and Actor could not bear the thought of Chief being put at additional risk. He stretched out his tall frame and rested his arms on the back of the bench, crossing his long legs at the ankles. Perhaps he should ask for a transfer. He dismissed the idea almost immediately. The prospect of leaving Garrison’s team sickened him. The team were the closest thing he had to a family and he did not want to leave them. He most certainly did not want to leave Chief. 

He would find another solution. 

He rose and looked around to get his bearings….

…and saw Chief sitting on a bench across the square from him. 

Doing his job. 

Watching Actor’s back, as Actor had known that he would. He began walking in the direction of the Ponte delle Tette. 

Ten seconds later, Chief followed him.

***

They reached the Ponte delle Tette at dusk, the setting sun turning the sky to rose and gold and bathing the marble colonnades and medieval buildings in a gentle and flattering light. It suited Venice, Actor thought, the city so graceful and beautiful. He hoped she would survive the current occupation intact. The realisation of just how unlikely that was saddened him greatly.

The Nazis would strip La Serenissima bare and leave her naked and bleeding. 

He stepped onto the bridge and paused in the middle, leaning back against the marble balustrade to survey the view. Almost immediately a beautiful youth approached him, teeth perfect, eyes bright. _Shorter than Chief_ , Actor thought absently. He smiled at the youth, but declined his offer. His mind was focused on the task in hand, his body strangely unmoved. 

The youth smiled wistfully and walked back to join his friend. _It was a pity. The man was very handsome. He would have enjoyed servicing him..._

Actor looked around and noted the narrow street that ran alongside the canal, mentally mapping the alleys and intersections. He paid particular attention to the buildings nearby, the ones that had gardens with walls or gates that could be quickly scaled: the ones that could offer an escape route should one become necessary. Another gilded youth approached, darker-skinned than the first, taller, slim-hipped, his athletic body attractively-muscled, his eyes as dark as midnight. This time, Actor looked. 

“Being followed,” Chief said quietly. He stood in front of Actor and tried to emulate the body language of the prostitutes he had watched surreptitiously as he’d trailed Actor through the winding streets and narrow alleyways. In marked contrast, the prostitutes had stared at Chief quite openly, their faces hostile, the young man firmly designated as competition, not customer. None of the prostitutes had approached him. 

Unlike Actor. 

The Italian couldn’t pass one without them stepping towards him, an arm outstretched, their interest and intention unmistakable. Actor would stop and smile and exchange a few words while the youths stroked his chest, his stomach, anywhere they could reach. Anything to capture and hold his interest. Anything to make him choose them. The bolder ones would press themselves against Actor’s body, a hand busy at his groin. The hand would be captured and brought to Actor’s lips, gently kissed, then released. So too, the youth. 

Chief had not been able to watch the interplays without being aroused. He’d watched the expression on Actor’s face and marvelled at the sexuality the man exuded, the sensuality of his gestures and gaze, the innate grace with which he moved. 

No wonder the prostitutes wanted him. 

No wonder Chief wanted him. 

As Actor had turned into the narrow street that ran alongside the canal and led up to the bridge, a man had detached himself from the shadows and started to follow him. Clad in a dark brown raincoat and fedora, the man’s appearance had been at odds with the close-fitting clothes and bright colours of the prostitutes. _A mark_ , Chief had thought. _Or Gestapo_. He’d hung back and watched from a distance. It could’ve been a coincidence. Every fibre of his being had screamed it wasn’t. 

When Actor had been stopped by yet another youth and raincoat-man had shown an unnatural interest in the darkened interior of a long-abandoned shop, Chief’d had his answer. 

He’d memorised a map of this area and turned into a side street, picking up his pace. He could get round to the other side of the bridge if he hurried. Especially if Actor was stopped again. He grunted to himself. _Yeah. Like that wasn’t gonna happen._

“I know,” Actor said without taking his eyes off Chief’s face. “The brown raincoat.” 

“Uh-huh,” Chief acknowledged. He reached out a hand to stroke Actor’s chest as he had seen the youths do and was shocked by the thrill that jolted his body. His hand was captured by one of Actor’s. 

“Let us see if he is just speculating,” Actor murmured. He smiled broadly at Chief and nodded before leading him across the bridge and into a tiny alley off the narrow street beyond. They were halfway down the alley when Chief was pressed against the wall, Actor’s body hard against his own, Actor’s mouth fastening over his lips, preventing him from crying out. 

Caught off-guard, Chief reacted entirely on instinct. His blade was in his hand without conscious thought, Actor’s moan of pain muffled against his mouth, then his wrist was seized and held in a grip of iron. The pressure of Actor’s body against his own was undiminished as Actor continued to grind his hips against Chief’s. The Italian drew his head back just enough to disengage their mouths and hissed into Chief’s ear. “For God’s sake, kiss me back! This has to look real!”

Then Actor’s mouth was hard against his own again and demanding entrance. Chief’s lips parted, opening to the Italian’s probing tongue. Dropping his knife he wrapped his arms around Actor’s back and kissed him. Passionately. 

Actor’s tongue slipped into his mouth, pressed against his own, stroking, teasing. The movements mirrored his hands. His fingers dug into Chief’s buttocks, pressing him hard against his groin, his hips thrusting rhythmically against him. 

Chief moaned aloud. He could not stop himself. Overwhelmed by the sensations being wrought on his body, he buried his head against Actor’s chest, turning his head so that Actor could not see his face: could not see the effect this was having on him. He watched as the man in the raincoat stopped at the entrance to the alley, starting when he spied the two men locked in carnal embrace. 

The German agent spun on his heels and briskly walked back the way he had come. Clearly the man was not the one that he was looking for. He could not contain a shudder, feeling dirty merely for having witnessed the perverted coupling. He rounded the corner and walked back to his place in the shadows and sagged against the wall with a heartfelt sigh of relief. _What if someone had seen him following them? Watching them? My God! What sort of pervert would they think him?!_

Chief could barely think at all, was finding it almost impossible to breathe. All he seemed able to do was feel and all he could feel was fire, burning through him wherever his body touched Actor’s, and centred on his groin. He was as hard as nails. If they didn’t stop soon he was gonna lose it. 

Actor’s voice sounded unnaturally loud in his ear. 

“I think he has gone but we should remain for a few minutes longer.” The movements of the Italian’s body did not cease. He began grunting with each thrust now, making no attempt to be silent. _Keeping up the pretence_ , Chief thought, _working the con. Oh shit… it felt so good._

Actor’s groans were gasoline on the fire that was Chief’s passion, and Actor’s body, hard against his own, rubbing insistently against his erection, aroused him beyond endurance. 

_Oh shit…he was gonna…he ..oh…no…Shit... No…OHHH!!_

He convulsed against the leg Actor had thrust between his thighs, whimpering into his climax. 

“Oh, nice touch,” Actor’s amused voice breathed against his neck. “But I think we need to be a little more overt.” 

His grunts became moans, increasing in pitch and tempo until he, too, convulsed against Chief’s body with a harsh cry. Although the movements of his hips stopped, he made no attempt to release Chief from his embrace, holding the younger man against his body. Chief just clung to him, his face still buried against Actor’s chest, not sure if his legs would support him if he let go. 

_Oh Shit. Please... please don’t let him know…_

After long moments Actor drew away. Chief was as white as a sheet. “Are you all right?” Actor eyed him with a concerned frown. 

The young scout almost panicked at the question. _What do I say? What the hell does he think just happened?_ He looked down and saw blood on Actor’s sleeve and did not have to fake the shock and concern that followed. “You’re hurt! I…. Actor, I’m sorry!” 

A shadow passed across the Italian’s face and then was swiftly masked. “It is all right, Chief. Just a scratch. I will be fine.” 

Chief stared in horror at the cut on Actor’s forearm. He’d done that. He hadn’t thought, hadn’t had time to think. He’d just reacted when Actor pushed him up against that wall. _Shit. Oh shit._ A handkerchief appeared in Actor’s hand and he began wrapping it around the slash. Chief reached out to tie it in place, his hands shaking. _Don’t let him see. Oh shit, don’t let him know._

Actor slipped out of his jacket and draped it over his arm to hide both blood and makeshift bandage. “Come,” he said softly. “Let us see if our friend has gone.” Bending, he retrieved the knife that Chief had dropped and handed it back to him. Chief’s stomach roiled at the sight of Actor’s blood on the blade. He silently took the knife and replaced it in its sheath. He could not bring himself to look at the other man and did not see Actor’s frown deepen. 

Actor had never seen Chief sheath a dirty blade. The way Chief’s hands had trembled as he tied the handkerchief around his arm had also not gone unnoticed by the observant Italian. Clearly what had just happened between them had upset the young man greatly. Understanding swiftly followed, and Actor cursed himself for being every kind of a fool. _Damn it, he should have realised…_ He would need to talk to Chief when they were back at the hotel, talk to him and reassure him. 

When they returned to the bridge there was no sign of the man in the raincoat. Actor retrieved his wallet, removed some bills and handed them to Chief. Chief tucked them into his trouser pocket. 

“I will see you back at the hotel,” Actor murmured under his breath. “We will talk then. Everything will be fine.” He gently lifted Chief’s chin, kissed him chastely on the cheek, then turned and walked away. 

Chief took off in the opposite direction without a backward glance.

***

Actor entered the hotel lift alone and allowed himself a soft sigh of frustration. Holding Chief, touching him, had been even more intoxicating and arousing than he had imagined they would be. It would have been so very easy to have forgotten that he was only pretending to make love to the handsome youth. Certainly, he would not have had to fake his orgasm had he touched Chief any longer…

He sighed again. At least now he knew where he stood. Chief had been shocked and scared by what had transpired in the alley. His young friend would never welcome his advances, would never want a sexual relationship with him. 

Their friendship would have to be enough.

***

That Chief was already in their suite when he returned did not surprise Actor, for he had taken a circuitous route back to the hotel so that he could compose his thoughts and decide what to say to the young man when they met. The scout was standing on the balcony with his forearms resting on the balustrade and gazing down at the canal below. He did not turn at Actor’s approach. Chief’s midnight-dark hair was still damp from the shower, his clothes a fresh change.

Actor’s chest constricted. _Was it so terrible that you needed to wash away my touch?_

“Chief, I would like to talk about what happened earlier.” 

“’M sorry,” Chief murmured, his gaze fixed firmly on the lights of the great basilica of Santa Maria. 

“You do not need to apologise,” Actor said quietly. “I should have known better than to do as I did without first alerting you to my intentions.” 

The shoulder muscles tensed under the form-fitting shirt, but Chief did not speak. Actor continued.

“I forgot where you spent your formative years - how young you were when you were first imprisoned. I cannot fault your instincts, for I know how harsh the environment was that honed them, and neither can I fault you for thinking that you needed to protect yourself. I should have warned you.”

_Damn it, Actor, I know you weren’t gonna jump me._ Chief turned around, wanting to correct Actor’s misconception, needing to explain. “I didn’t think …“ he began, only to be interrupted by Actor a second time. 

“It’s all right, Chief. There is no need for you to defend your actions. I am sorry for the distress I caused you and can assure you that it was unintentional.” Actor’s eyes were impossibly sad. “I hope that you can forgive my behaviour. Your trust is very important to me and I would never do anything to betray it.” 

Chief wanted to shout at him that that wasn’t it at all. Sure, he’d acted on instinct. But he _did_ want Actor. He wanted everything he’d done to him and more, but he couldn’t say it, couldn’t risk it. He sighed heavily and wanted to run, but knew he couldn’t do that either. He wasn’t good with words but he had to find some way to make things right between them again. 

“Trust you, man,” he said softly. “You know that. I’m sorry I cut you. I didn’t think.” He looked away and swallowed hard before speaking again. “In prison… ” 

“It’s all right, Chief.” Actor’s voice was rich and reassuring and Chief just wanted to lose himself in it. ”You do not have to explain. I understand.” And Actor did, only too well. Chief had been very young, very handsome, and very much alone when he had first been incarcerated. 

Very vulnerable. 

Chief’s earliest sexual experiences would most likely have been in prison, and they would not have been pleasant ones, the isolated teenager easy prey for guards and gangs of prisoners alike. He would have been violently assaulted and brutally raped, probably repeatedly. No wonder, then, that when Actor had touched him, his first instinct had been to protect himself. Chief’s eyes mirrored Actor’s own distress and the Italian misunderstood their message, assuming the memories to be painful to his young friend.

“Know you only did what you had too,” Chief said quietly. “I should’ve handled it better. Ain’t gonna let it spoil what we have.” _Ain’t never gonna let that happen._ He met the older man’s gaze and held it, adding softly, “know you’d never hurt me, Actor.” Again he saw a shadow cross Actor’s face, and did not understand why, but then the man smiled at him. 

“Thank you, Chief,” Actor said quietly. His smile broadened. “I must say, once you’d recovered from the initial shock, I thought you played your part to perfection.” 

Chief held his breath and searched Actor’s face for some sign of insincerity. Legs wobbly with relief when he found none, he sank down onto one of the ornate cast-iron chairs on the balcony. “Just followed your lead.” He marvelled that his voice could sound so normal. “Had a good teacher.” 

Actor’s laugh filled the room. He tossed his jacket onto the marble table and unbuttoned his cuff, rolling up his shirt-sleeve to expose the cut on his forearm. Chief was out of the chair and beside him in an instant. “Borrowed a first-aid kit from Guido,” he explained, gesturing with his chin inside the room. “Lemme see.” 

“Thank you,” Actor murmured again. _Deo grazia._ Everything would be all right. He followed the younger man back into their suite and into the bathroom, settling himself down on the edge of the bath. Chief filled the sink with water and very gently, very carefully, began bathing his arm. Actor broke the silence. “Once I have bathed and changed, we can go out for dinner. There is a church I would like to show you along the way which houses a beautiful altar-piece by Titian.” 

Chief felt the tension slipping from his body. Actor didn’t know. Everything would be okay. Churches weren’t his thing but he liked the way Actor talked about art. Besides, he wanted to be with Actor, wherever that was. What had happened between them in the alley had been… incredible and, far from slaking his lust for the sophisticated Italian, it had only served to increase it. 

He wanted Actor. Badly. Even worse than before.

Unaware of Chief’s preoccupation, Actor continued to speak. “Trade guilds used to sponsor artworks in churches. I do so want you to see the altar that was paid for by the poultry guild. It features the Virgin Mary surrounded by chickens.”

Chief laughed softly at that, a musical, lyrical sound, and Actor found himself wishing that he would laugh more often, for it quite transformed him. He winced as the familiar pain assaulted him. 

Chief would never be his. 

***

Actor finished buttoning the jacket of his costume and surveyed his appearance in the mirror. Guido had quite outdone himself, for the costume the little hotelier had sourced for him was nothing short of magnificent. In the regency style, it comprised a dark blue velvet dress coat and trousers heavily embroidered with gold thread and embellished with golden braid. The jacket was further adorned with a multitude of tiny glass beads from Murano that sparkled opulently in the lamplight. Beneath the jacket, Actor was wearing a gold and blue damask waistcoat trimmed with the same gold braid, and beneath that, a silk shirt with fine, lace cuffs and a large, lace jabot which Actor now arranged over both the waistcoat and jacket. A mask, tricorn hat, gloves and a cane with an ornate lion-head finial would complete the ensemble. 

“How do I look?” he asked the other occupant of the room and immediately wished that he had not. 

“What Casino said.” Chief did not take his eyes from the voluminous, shapeless, off-white cotton trousers he was putting on. The costume had a big belly and a prominent hump that was held in place by loops of elastic. “A thing of beauty and a joy forever.” Though the words were flippant, the sentiment was not. 

Actor looked amazing. 

The outfit might have look effeminate on a lesser man, but Actor wore it like he’d been born to. 

_Man, he looked as sexy as hell._

It was all Chief could do not to rip it off him and screw him senseless. 

Actor forced himself not to sigh out loud. “Do you remember who wrote those lines?” 

Chief nodded. “Uh-huh.” _John Keats._ He adjusted the hump so it was central on his back, only to have it sag drunkenly to one side. He donned the shapeless cotton jacket over it and belted it in place. Settling the ugly cap on his head he made no attempt to hide a sigh. 

Actor forced himself to ignore it. “Do you remember the next line of the poem?” he asked patiently, grateful that Chief had agreed to wear the costume. It looked even more hideous when worn than it had done on the hanger. He needed to distract Chief so that he would not dwell on that fact. 

Chief was having none of it. “Uh-huh.” 

Actor gave up. “The pick-up is at 2200. That gives us a little over an hour. I will go to the Ponte di Rialto, watch the procession of gondolas and then make my way to the rendezvous point. After the pickup we will meet in the Piazza San Polo, outside the church. If there is any trouble, make your way back to the hotel. Tell Guido everything. He will make arrangements to get you out of Venice and back to the Allied lines.” 

Chief nodded disinterestedly. _Weren’t no way he was gonna leave Actor if things went south._ He mentally corrected himself. _There wasn’t any way._

Actor looked at him and read him as easily as a book. He crossed to Chief’s side and waited until the young man looked up at him. “Please, Chief,” he asked, his voice concerned. He made no attempt to touch the young scout although he very much wanted to do so. “Promise me that you will not do anything that puts you at additional risk.” 

Chief refused to let the words rile him as they once would have, deeply touched by Actor’s concern. He knew he’d die for this man, would die for any one of the team, but it never failed to surprise him when he was reminded that they’d do the same for him. “Uh-uh. Risk comes with the territory. I’ve got your back.” 

Actor smiled in resignation. This was one battle he would not win and he conceded with his usual good grace. “Thank you, Chief. I am greatly reassured by that fact.” With that, he put on his mask, donned his ostrich-plumed hat, retrieved his gloves and cane and was gone. 

Chief turned and caught his reflection in one of the ornate mirrors.

He sighed again. 

***

There was an almost tangible frisson of excitement in the air as Actor walked through the marble-floored lobby. He watched as several of his fellow guests entered the dining room in costume, their eagerness to be out amongst the revellers already thronging the street overriding their willingness to adhere to the normally strict dress code of the restaurant. Clearly this was something that the hotel management was prepared to overlook during Carnevale. Guido smiled at him from behind the reception desk and came forward to greet him. 

“Ah, Vittorio! You are magnificent! I knew this costume would be perfect for you!” he said happily. 

Actor bowed graciously. Guido looked around and, seeing no sign of Torio’s companion, asked, “But where is Wolf?” 

Actor smiled disarmingly. “He will follow a little later.” 

Guido searched his face, the smile gone from his own. “He will wear that dreadful costume, as you insist?” There was censure in his tone.

“Yes,” Actor confirmed wearily. “He will wear that dreadful costume.” 

Guido sniffed and removed an imaginary speck of dust from his cuff. “As you wish,” he said abruptly. “Though it is a terrible waste of a wonderful opportunity.” 

Actor raised his hands in surrender. “Enough, my friend. I have no wish to argue with you as well. I would like a gondola to take me to the Rialto. Can you arrange one for me, please?” 

Guido took his arm and steered him towards the front door. “But of course!” The sooner he was rid of 'Torio, the sooner he would be able to put his plan into action. Signalling to the doorman, Guido issued orders in rapid Italian. The doorman raised his arm and waved and a gondola swept serenely up to the steps in front of the building. “To the Rialto, Marco, please,” Guido called to the gondolier, “and see that you do not overcharge him. This man is a dear friend of mine.” 

Marco clutched his hand to his heart and smiled up at the portly hotel manager. They, too, had been friends for many years. “Guido! You wound me!” the laugh in his voice at odds with the hurt expression on his face. Guido waved him away with a laugh as Actor stepped lightly into the exquisite boat. When his passenger was seated, the gondolier pushed away from the steps, expertly turned the gondola within its own length, and began the long pull up the Grand Canal towards the Rialto bridge. 

From the balcony four stories above, Chief watched Actor depart. He checked his watch then picked up his black mask with the hooked nose and wrinkles and put it on with a sigh. Making damn sure he didn’t look at any mirrors on the way out, he left the room and headed for the fire-escape. 

_Damned if he’d give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him like this, even if he didn’t know them._

***

The area surrounding the Ponte Delle Tette was thronged with revellers determined to use the liberating anonymity of Carnevale to mask their illicit indulgences. Actor made his way to the bridge with no little difficulty and several, very unambiguous, offers of sex. The prostitutes, he noted absently, were wearing costumes of a considerably brighter hue than their patrons. Considerably more form-fitting, too. Actor hitched a hip onto the balustrade that ran the length of the bridge and casually looked around at the other men who had gathered there. His contact would be dressed as a Medico dea Peste, a plague doctor, so his sinister, beaked mask would be easy to recognise. Actor had been given a password with which to identify himself to the man. Now all he had to do was wait.

From the corner of his eye he registered the ugly costume of Pulcinella and briefly glanced at its wearer. The man was slumped against the wall of one of the buildings that overlooked the bridge, apparently inebriated. Actor looked away, comforted by the reassuring presence of his friend. He glanced around again and smiled down as a slender youth dressed as Mattachino stopped in front of him. The man was wearing the shortest tunic and the tightest leggings that Actor had seen all evening. Although the costume left Actor in no doubt as to the youth’s impressive endowments, he was surprised to find himself unmoved. 

The mission, he told himself, even as he acknowledged the excuse for the lie that it was. 

He wanted no-one but Chief. 

He refrained from looking at his watch and engaged the youth in conversation. The boy was only too happy to remain at his side, after all, there was always the possibility that the handsome man would engage his services. To that end he began to quietly and colourfully describe the different acts he could perform and the fee associated with each one. Actor listened attentively and continued to scan the crowd. 

From his place against the wall beside the bridge Chief watched the interplay between the prostitute and Actor with mounting distress. As he continued to search the throng for a man dressed in a black cloak and wearing the beaked mask of a plague doctor, a plan began to form in his head.

***

Actor smiled at the youth, murmured “perhaps later,” then slapped him playfully on his rump to send him on his way. A man dressed as a Medico dea Peste was making his way onto the bridge. He stopped on the other side from Actor and looked out along the canal. With one last casual glance around, Actor crossed to his side.

“La Serenissima is at her best during Carnevale, is she not?” he said quietly.

“Indeed. A triumph of art over nature,” came the expected reply. The password exchange was complete, confirming that this man was indeed his contact. 

“May I trouble you for directions?” The doctor spoke in a more normal tone now. He reached into his jacket and withdrew a map which he carefully unfolded and laid on top of the parapet. “I am trying to find my way to the Piazza San Marco but I am quite hopelessly lost.” 

“Of course.” Actor bent over the map. Taped over the Piazza San Marco was the microfilm. “We are here and you need to be…” he moved his hand to the microfilm, released it and carefully palmed it “… there.” He made a point of looking about to orient himself. “There is the Rio Tera delle Carampane, so if you go this way..” he looked down at the map and traced a route on it “that should take you to San Marco’s.” The doctor’s beak bobbed enthusiastically and Actor had to smile at the absurd spectacle he presented. 

“Grazie mille!” The agent said gratefully. The map was re-folded so that the relevant section was now uppermost and then the doctor took his leave, wishing Actor an enjoyable evening. Actor returned the sentiment and watched him leave. He slipped his hand into the pocket of his breeches and deposited the microfilm there. Then he settled back against the marble railing, arms folded nonchalantly across his chest, and returned his gaze to the other revellers. 

He did not look in Chief’s direction for he knew that the scout would have been watching his every move. Actor gave the pre-agreed sign that would tell Chief that contact had been made and the pickup has been completed successfully. Then he looked around for a suitable alibi. The youth dressed as Mattachino was still lingering on the other side of the canal. Actor caught his eye and lifted his chin in the direction of the alley he had taken Chief into earlier that day. The youth smiled and nodded. He sauntered across the bridge and walked into the alley, turning to watch as Actor followed him. 

Chief stiffened. 

_Shit… Actor wouldn’t. He wouldn’t be that dumb…_

When it was clear that that was _precisely_ what Actor was going to do, shock turned to anger and Chief fairly burned with it. 

_Fuck! They were on a mission and Actor was goofing off to get laid!_

Unable to see down the alley, Chief found himself torn between wanting to know what was going on and simply wanting to run. He’d been kidding himself. A fool to believe there could ever be anything between them. Actor had a one-track mind.

_And a fucking problem!_

Chief was outraged.

 _The man’d never change!_

It was fifteen minutes before the youth reappeared at the entrance to the alley, still rearranging his hose. He crossed the bridge to re-join his friends, a broad smile lighting his face. To the already-suffering scout it was clear that the experience had been a good one for the young prostitute.

 _Yeah, right. Actor showed everyone a good time. Even johns._ Chief ground his teeth in frustration, shocked by the surging wave of jealousy that assaulted him.

Actor re-emerged from the alley a minute later, his clothing immaculate and nothing in his demeanour or appearance suggesting that he had just had a sordid assignation with a prostitute in a public street. 

_Which was Actor all over_ , Chief thought unhappily. _Man’d fall into shit and still come up smelling of roses..._

He fought back a wave of despair and swallowed hard against the pain of disillusionment. He’d been the biggest fool. _Actor’d never change! Sure as hell wouldn’t throw this over for someone like him. Weren’t even like he had anything to offer him. Wasn’t_ he corrected. Which only made him feel worse. 

_And the thing that sucked the most was…he_ still _wanted Actor. Shit! He was so fucked…_

Actor did not even look at him. He crossed the bridge and turned in the direction of the Chiesa San Polo. Thirty seconds later, and having first made sure that Actor was not being followed, Chief rose unsteadily from his place by the wall and, as befitted his pretence of drunkenness, staggered after him.

***

As soon as they met in front of the baroque façade of the Chiesa San Polo, Actor knew that something was very wrong. He could only get monosyllabic responses from Chief when the man deigned to speak, and most of his attempts at conversation received no reply at all. He had no idea why. When they were back in their hotel room the scout rounded on him angrily. 

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

Actor regarded Chief with furrowed brows, completely at a loss as to why his friend was so obviously displeased with him. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Doin’ it in the street with that prostitute!” 

Actor blinked. _That was what was bothering Chief?_

“You had the microfilm! What if he’d been a pickpocket like Goniff? What if he’d stolen it?”

Actor laughed at the absurdity of the suggestion. He seriously doubted that the talented and very well-endowed young prostitute would need to augment his earnings by resorting to theft. He said so, and watched as Chief’s face darkened in fury. 

“Yeah, laugh it off!” the young scout spat. “We’re risking our lives here and all you can think about is getting laid. Well, the next time you want to shove you dick up some kid’s ass – don’t drag me along!” 

Actor froze. _Dear God, he should have realised..._ Chief believed he had gone into the alley to have sex with the prostitute and that both angered and distressed him. Despite their conversation of the previous day, Chief still felt threatened by Actor’s apparent appetite for sex with other men and the sudden insight caused Actor’s chest to tighten. 

Chief was afraid of him. 

The realisation greatly saddened the aristocratic Italian. _How terrified must Chief be for his fear to destroy the trust between us?_ He swallowed hard, composed his thoughts, and spoke very quietly. “I went into that alley because I needed an alibi. I had been lingering in a spot renowned for prostitution. To have behaved in any other way, given the amount of time I had already spent on the bridge, would have aroused suspicion.” 

The look of surprise on the younger man’s face was swiftly replaced by disbelief. 

“Kid looked damned pleased with himself,” Chief gritted. “You sayin’ nothin’ happened?”

Actor sighed and slowly shook his head. “No, Chief, I am not saying that. But I did not, as you so crudely put it, shove my dick up his ass. I made him put his arms around my neck and then I brought him off with my hand.” He watched as the muscles in Chief’s neck tightened, his brow furrowing. “I was gentle with him, which he seemed to appreciate, and I called out another man’s name when he came, then I paid him generously for allowing me to indulge my ‘fantasy’ and we parted.”

Chief didn’t know where to look. 

He hadn’t thought. _He should’ve thought!_ The young hustler probably hadn’t seen much kindness from the men who’d fucked him. Of course Actor would’ve been kind to him. Even when he used people, Actor was kind to them. _Man didn’t know no other way._ It was one of the reasons he was so damn good at what he did.

Actor cared. Even when he was fleecing a mark, he cared. 

Chief hung his head in embarrassment and felt deeply ashamed. Actor was his friend but he’d been judge, jury and executioner without even giving the man a chance to explain, condemning him for what he thought he had been, not for what he actually was. The realisation horrified the young scout. He’d fought prejudice and hatred all his life. He’d been written off early as a bad lot because of his mixed heritage and had never been able to shake the label. He’d even come close to believing it himself, until a boy-scout of a Lieutenant had pulled him out of prison and told him he believed in him, and the man standing silently before him had offered him his friendship. He lifted his eyes from the floor and met Actor’s gaze. The older man’s face was closed to him. 

_What the hell am I gonna say?_

Actor looked at his young friend and, seeing the distress in his eyes, misunderstood its source. Sighing softly, he started re-fastening the buttons on his jacket. _This was not working, could not be made to work._ When they returned to England he would speak with Craig and ask to be transferred to another team. 

He ignored the pain that stabbed though his chest. 

It had to be this way. Chief deserved a chance at a better life and Actor knew that Garrison and the others would give him the support he needed to realise that dream. And as for himself? Well, better to not dwell on that. He had been lonely for most of his life - surrounded by people, but nevertheless alone. He would survive.

“I am going out.” He fished in his pocket and retrieved the microfilm. ”Keep this safe.” Then he turned and walked out of the suite. Chief neither tried to stop him nor attempted to follow. 

Actor sighed as he made his way down the winding staircase that led to the hotel lobby. 

It was better this way.

***

The youth on the Ponte delle Tette was achingly beautiful.

A black tunic graced his torso, the sleeves fitted from bicep to cuff, the shoulders padded in a style that would not have looked out of place in this city five centuries earlier. The tunic, split to mid-chest where it was fastened with two gold frogs, was heavily embroidered in swirling, golden forms, its small, upright collar similarly embellished. A thin band of embroidery emphasised the beautifully-muscled chest which tapered to a slender waist then flared to slim hips over long legs clad in tight, black breeches which moulded perfectly to the man’s thighs. Over the breeches, soft, leather boots reached just above the knees, the boot cuffs embroidered in the same gold thread and swirling pattern as the tunic. 

The outfit was exquisite, emphasizing to perfection the beauty of the form beneath, but it was the youth, not the costume, that held Actor’s gaze.

Leaning nonchalantly against the balustrade with one leg raised against the marble columns, the youth exuded sensuality and, although his face was partially obscured by the feathered mask he wore, the lips and chin that remained exposed were as beautiful as the rest of his body. 

Breathtakingly beautiful. 

As Actor looked as him, the youth caught his gaze. The beautiful lips parted and the head tilted to one side as the youth surveyed Actor from head to toe. Clearly the youth liked what he saw, for a smile danced at the corners of his mouth and he pushed himself away from the railing and approached the older man. 

_The man moves like a cat_ , Actor thought. _Graceful and silent, all controlled power and barely-contained danger_. 

Actor felt himself react. He could not help himself. The youth could have been Chief: the same height, the same build, the same unconscious grace. 

Achingly beautiful and utterly irresistible.

Chief was unobtainable. 

This youth was not. 

He made his decision even as the young man stopped in front of him and trailed a hand down his chest. Actor swallowed hard, shocked by the effect the simple contact had on him. He murmured a greeting but the man did not speak, content to continue his unhurried exploration of Actor’s chest and belly. When his hand slid lower and gently traced Actor’s erection through the thick material of his breeches, Actor had to bite back a cry. 

He wanted Chief. Desperately. Dear God, he was hard just thinking about him! If all he ever had was a fantasy of Chief, he would make it be enough. 

It would have to be enough. 

He gently pulled the youth against his body, lowered his mouth and pressed an unhurried kiss to the youth’s lips. There was no hesitation. The lips parted to offer him a deeper intimacy and Actor lost himself in the pleasure of the other's mouth. The hand continued to stroke him, the fingers gentle but insistent, fuelling his desire, driving him closer to madness. 

He wanted Chief. Oh, God, how he wanted him… 

His arms tightened around the youth’s body, the kiss deepening. He pressed his hips against the youth’s groin and felt the evidence of the other man’s passion hard against his thigh as he murmured in the youth’s ear all the forbidden words he would never say to Chief: how beautiful he was, how much he desired him, how much he wanted to make love to him. 

The young man pressed into his embrace and matched his passion. 

A coarse jest from a reveller dragged Actor back to harsh reality and he reluctantly broke the embrace. He did not, however, release the youth. Resting his hands on the young man’s shoulders he spoke softly to him.

“Come with me. Let me love you. Let me make love to you.”

The eyes behind the mask were dark with passion and the beautiful mouth lifted again to his own and pressed against his lips. His hand was taken and he let the youth lead him over the bridge towards the little alley off the street beyond. He stopped in the narrow mouth of the alley, unexpectedly assaulted by some very unfamiliar emotions. 

Regret. Reluctance. Guilt.

He had held Chief in this place. Held him and wanted, so very much, to make love to him. It seemed a betrayal to now be here with another. 

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to think objectively. 

Chief would never be his. He needed to exorcise the demon that his love had become before it destroyed them both. It was as well that it was here. 

And yet… 

He found that he could not move.

The youth had paused, his head tilted on one side, clearly puzzled by Actor’s hesitation. When Actor did not move, the youth closed the distance between them. His eyes dropped and he pressed Actor’s hand gently against his groin so that the other man would also know his need. His eyes lifted and held Actor’s gaze, the dark eyes shining with desire. Eyes so like Chief’s.

 _So be it_ , thought Actor. 

He followed the youth into the alley, stopping him when they were halfway down it, easing the youth against the wall where he had stopped and held Chief. 

_If all I have is this fantasy, I will make it be enough._

He lowered his mouth to the young prostitute and, in his mind, made love to Chief.

***

It had been Guido’s idea and Chief had been a willing conspirator, the costume beautiful, the opportunity unique. When Actor had left the suite, Chief had known where he would go and had raced to the bridge to intercept him.

_If he only had this one time, he would make it be enough._

Chief stood unresisting, then, when the hands that embraced him slid up to his jaw and held him for the onslaught of Actor’s kisses. The Italian’s passion was inflammatory. A groan lodged itself in Chief’s throat as Actor pressed his tongue past the younger man’s lips, exploring the interior of his mouth.

Chief’s hands busied themselves unfastening the buttons on Actor’s coat and waistcoat. Finally baring Actor’s broad chest, the Indian sighed and lowered his head to it. 

Actor gripped the youth’s shoulders as the man bent his head to bathe his skin with the wetness of lips and tongue. He sucked in his breath as the youth moved to a nipple and caught the tight nub between his teeth, crying out at the exquisite pain. Actor’s hands swept upward, freeing the man’s tunic from his leggings, exposing the skin of the youth’s back. As Chief suckled and bit first one nipple and then the other, Actor’s fingers clawed helplessly at his back, dragging red lines of passion across the smooth skin.

Chief’s hands slipped lower and reached inside Actor’s breeches to pull his cock free. 

_Shit, Actor was big._

_And ready._

Chief shuddered helplessly, caught between fascination and fear. His hand was grasped and eased away from Actor’s groin, his arms raised above his head and held there, his back pressed against the wall by the weight of Actor’s body. The Italian’s mouth found his throat and covered it with urgent kisses. Then, holding both of Chief’s hands in one of his own, Actor unfastened the youth’s pants and pushed inside. 

Chief’s breath left him. Coherent thought fled. His head rocked back and he softly moaned his passion.

A wild thrill chased through Actor as he pulled the hard length free and closed his fingers around it. The youth’s eyes darkened to blackest midnight as Actor’s strong hand began to stroke his shaft. Agony of a different sort twisted the man's handsome features. _So beautiful_ , thought Actor. “My turn,” he murmured softly in his mother-tongue against Chief’s mouth.

Chief pressed himself into the touch, unable to help himself as desire surged through his body. He moaned deeply, his entire body trembling with mounting passion as Actor’s hand squeezed, slowly drawing back and forth in a rhythm that made Chief’s entire body tense with need. Chief's head fell back and his eyes rolled blindly. His hips rocked forward of their own accord as Actor's lips fell upon his neck and his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin. Chief heard someone moaning and wondered briefly if it was himself.

Actor leant forward to taste the sweat that had broken out on the younger man's skin, his teeth grazing the prostitute’s throat. Panting breaths moistened the skin above his mask, but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted to be inside the youth. He wanted to feel Chief’s body clench around his aching flesh...

Chief wrapped his arms around Actor’s shoulders and hungrily mated their mouths once more. Faster and faster Actor stroked, Chief’s body trembling on a precipice of desire. Need whipped Chief’s blood into a frenzy. He sucked Actor’s tongue hard into his mouth and wrapped his tongue around the slick muscle. Actor shivered in delighted response, his passion rising.

Chief moaned as fingers swirled around the tip of his erection and spread the fluid that had leaked from there over its entire length. The stroking intensified, harder, faster, until Chief’s hips were bucking into Actor’s hands, his voice breaking on a cry.

Actor's hand pulled and teased Chief’s sensitive flesh with bittersweet pain. Chief groaned, tremors wracking his body. Tight, demanding strokes suddenly sent him over the edge and he cried out sharply, Actor sealing his mouth over Chief’s to capture the sound. Hot liquid spilled over the Italian's hand and trickled down Chief’s thighs.

Actor eased the shaking, shuddering man against his body, cradling him in his arms, his hand still loosely clasped around the youth’s softening member. Very gently, very carefully, he began pumping it. Chief barely had time to recover his breathing before he was painfully hard once more. He swore softly in Apache, burying his face against Actor’s broad chest. 

Actor ran his fingers over the shining head of the man’s erection. He coated his fingers thickly in the glistening essence before pushing his hand between the youth’s thighs, seeking the entrance hidden there. Using the younger man’s own semen to lubricate him, Actor slid a slender finger into the clenching heat.

Chief felt himself harden further as the finger pressed against the tight ring of flesh. He tensed, still unused to this form of penetration, and wished he’d prepared himself better. He hadn’t been able to find any lubricant in the suite and couldn’t bring himself to ask Guido for some. 

Actor felt the resistance and was both surprised and uncomfortably aroused by it. The lack of lubrication made him frown. He had thought the youth was more experienced… With care, he inserted a second finger, widening the opening that would not relax. His fingers caressed the tight flesh and probed for the spot that would ensure the youth’s complicity, the gland that would enhance his pleasure beyond resistance. The younger man bucked at his touch and gasped his need and Actor smiled his triumph.

"I will not hurt you," Actor murmured against his neck. "I want only to give you pleasure. Trust me.” 

The youth whimpered against his chest and pressed back to impale himself on Actor’s fingers. Removing his hand, Actor turned the youth to face the wall, pressed his erection against the youth’s body and pushed slowly into the welcoming heat. The youth’s body tightened around his erection, a cry of both pleasure and pain bitten back behind tightly-clenched teeth. Actor moved slowly at first until the youth understood the rhythm and matched it with the motion of his body. Actor’s own movements increased then, as he slid in and out with long, smooth strokes, angling his penetration to stroke the youth’s prostate, building their pleasure with maddening leisure. 

Chief writhed against him, lost to passion, completely overwhelmed by the sensations being wrought on his body. Actor rolled his hips, listening to the moans of his lover and adjusting his penetration in response, determined that their pleasure be mutual. He was finding the youth’s uninhibited response to his love-making incredibly arousing. 

Chief stiffened as Actor found the perfect position and cried out hoarsely, his face pressed against the ancient stone wall, his breath coming in jarring sobs. _So close. So good. Oh shit. So close._

Nearing his own breaking point, Actor was intimately aware of the youth’s heightened arousal and drove his body deeper into his lover’s. 

"Come with me," Actor whispered. _Oh Rainey._ “Come, beloved.” 

Chief moaned in bewildered ecstasy.

The Italian kissed the back of the youth’s neck as the flesh rippled around him. Chief cried out, his head thrown back against Actor’s shoulder. Silver liquid spilled warm into Actor’s hand as he surrendered to the needs of his own body and finally let orgasm take him. He jerked forward, shuddering, as his seed pumped into his lover’s body. Gasping for breath, Actor collapsed against the youth’s back, one arm wrapped around his chest to prevent them both from falling, the other braced against the wall.

As lungs fought for air that passion had denied them, Actor eased himself carefully from the prostitute’s body, shuddering again as the tight flesh reluctantly released him. The youth whimpered, whether in pleasure or pain Actor did not know, and he instinctively turned him against his chest and held him close to comfort and reassure him. The youth buried himself in the embrace, clutching at Actor with something akin to desperation. 

For a long while they just stood like that, Actor holding the youth against his body, eyes open but unseeing, so very reluctant to surrender the intimacy. That the brief encounter had affected him so profoundly both shocked and saddened the handsome Italian. 

How could a stranger move him so? Was he truly so fickle in his affection?

Perhaps it was as well that Chief had never been his lover, if he could forsake him so readily for another. 

Perhaps what he felt for Chief was not love at all, but merely lust. 

Perhaps, in time, he would be able to forget him.

The voice in his head whispered _“Never”_ and despair threatened to overwhelm him. He could lie to many people but he could not lie to himself. He gently stroked the back of the youth’s neck and rubbed his cheek into the dark hair, losing himself in the fantasy for a little while longer. 

_Oh Rainey._

Chief pressed his face against Actor’s chest and revelled in the strength and security of his lover’s arms, breathing in the scent of his lover’s body and letting the steady beat of Actor’s heart calm him. A solitary tear tracked down his cheek. He hadn't really know what to expect, had never dreamt it’d be like that. He’d had so little experience of sex without violence. Had never had a lover who’d cared about his pleasure before… 

It had been perfect.

Actor had been perfect. 

Chief lifted his chin to look at the Italian and pressed a kiss as light as a butterfly’s wing to the sensuous mouth before pulling from his embrace. Dragging his leggings up over his hips, he turned and ran into the crowd.

Actor watched him leave and was shocked at how desperately he wanted to call him back. Numbly, he set about righting his attire. It was several minutes before he realised that the prostitute had left without being paid.

***

Chief’s emotions were still in turmoil when he pulled up in the tiny alley. The place was deserted, being too far off the main drag for the carnival-goers to be using it. Alone at last, he lent against an aged stone wall and tried to figure out just how he’d managed to make things so much worse.

 _He was so screwed._

Being with Actor had been more than he’d ever dreamed it’d be and, now it was over, he wasn’t sure he could just let it go. How was he gonna pretend it hadn’t happened? How was he ever gonna make himself believe that it would be enough? 

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_

He sighed heavily and looked around to get his bearings. He needed to get back to hotel. Actor’d expect to find him there when he returned. For once, the prospect of a hot shower and a comfortable bed held no appeal. The hotel was just one step closer to going back to England. Going back home. Where he’d have to see Actor, work with Actor, want Actor, to distraction, and not be able to do a damn thing about it. 

He bit back an agonised sob that was half-frustration, half-despair. 

He didn’t want a shower. He didn’t want to wash Actor from his body. His hand dropped to his groin and he stroked himself gently, moaning at the memory of Actor’s hand on his cock. _Shit. It’d been so damn good…_

Reluctantly releasing the fantasy, he sighed again and started walking in the direction of the Rialto. He had barely covered twenty yards when his foot fell upon something that yielded. As nimble as a cat he stopped stock-still and looked down. His foot was poised over the veil of a discarded mask. He crouched down so he could look at it more closely. The veil was attached to a beaked mask. 

A beaked mask. 

Like the mask of a plague doctor. 

Like the mask Actor’s contact had worn. 

The hairs stood up on the back of Chief’s neck. Eyes narrowing, he stared down the alley. In the faint light of the waning moon he could only just make out the hunched shape in one of the shop doorways. He approached with caution and crouched down beside the body. When the man did not respond to his soft calls and gentle shakes he felt for a pulse. Finding none, he fished in his pocket and withdrew his lighter. Illuminated by the light of its flame, the man’s chest was a grisly horror of bloody cloth and torn flesh, a single bullet hole piercing the skin of his neck. 

_Execution._

Chief looked at the man’s face and felt his stomach lurch. The man was Actor’s contact.

And if the Gestapo had got to the contact….

Rising, he ran full pelt in the direction of the Ponte delle Tette.

***

Actor was in serious trouble. Having only just left the alley his path was now blocked by three men dressed in dark raincoats and fedoras. All three men had weapons trained on him. One of the men gestured with his pistol for Actor to re-trace his steps and he slowly backed into the alley to comply, his hands raised. Once they were all standing in the alley, the same man addressed him in German.

“You have something that we want, I think. A microfilm. You will give it to me now.”

Actor did not have to fake the alarm he was feeling. He started talking over the man in alarmed Italian, hoping to bluff his way out. “Don’t shoot me! Please, don’t shoot! I have done nothing wrong!!” 

The Gestapo man spoke again. “I have no time for games. We know that you are an allied agent. Your contact gave us a very precise description of you.” He smiled coldly. “Before he died. Now you will give me the microfilm or I will shoot you and take it from your body.”

Actor ignored his words and continued to speak in Italian, his demeanour now verging on terror. “I don’t understand what you are saying! I don’t speak German! If you want money, I will give it to you. Please! Please! Do not shoot me!!” 

The Gestapo man merely shook his head and took careful aim. 

Actor knew that he was going to die and was surprised by how calm he felt. A myriad of thoughts flashed through his head. His death would be hard on the team. Hard for his youthful commander who had become a close friend. Hard for Goniff and Casino who thought of the team as family now and considered Actor a brother. Hardest of all on Chief, but at least the others would be there to help him cope with the loss. 

_Thank God, Chief is safe._

The mission had been a success so he knew that his death would not be in vain. Neither did he intend to surrender his life cheaply. His fingers tightened around the handle of his cane. He should be able to…

A shout from behind momentarily distracted them all. 

One of the Gestapo men cried out. He fell to the ground, clutching at his back, to reveal the young prostitute standing in the alley behind him. 

“Run!” Even as Actor shouted at the youth, the second German fired his pistol. The youth staggered sideways and slumped against the wall. 

Actor exploded. Unsheathing the sword cane, he lunged forward, ramming the point into the chest of the nearest German and killing him instantly. He stepped to one side and slipped effortlessly into a crouch before slashing the blade across the throat of the man who had shot the youth. The agent dropped his pistol and fell to his knees, frantically clutching at his throat in a vain attempt to stem the flow of blood from the severed arteries. 

Actor stopped beside him only long enough to retrieve his discarded luger, then he ignored him. The man would be dead within a minute. He turned his attention back to the youth whose timely intervention had saved his life. He needed to see how badly the young man had been hurt. 

The boy had gone.

***

Muttering an oath, Actor ran to the end of the alley and looked both ways. There was no sign of the youth. Only a bloody handprint on the wall showed that he had been there at all.

 _And been hurt_ , Actor thought sadly, his throat constricting. He had probably only returned to be paid. Actor cursed softly again. This was all his fault. If he had not indulged his fantasy about Chief, the youth would not have become involved and would not have been hurt. 

_And I would be dead_ , he acknowledged sombrely. The thought did nothing to assuage his guilt. 

He walked back along the alley and warily approached the first of the Gestapo agents to fall, the captured luger trained unerringly on the prone form. A knife protruded from between the man’s shoulders. Once he had assured himself that the man was indeed dead, Actor pulled the blade free and wiped it on the dead man’s coat-sleeve. Closing the blade, he slipped the knife into his pocket. He would not leave any evidence that might incriminate the young prostitute. Rising, he made his way out of the alley. He needed to find the youth. Find him and help him.

Before it was too late.

***

Chief drew a shuddering breath and forced himself to ignore the stabbing pain radiating from his injured side. He was bleeding badly and needed to get back to the safety of the hotel before he passed out. Bending, he choked back a cry of pain as he removed the cloak from the body of Actor’s contact. He fastened the cloak around his neck with difficulty and drew it close around his body to hide his costume and the blood now staining it. Light-headed and nauseous, he reached out a hand to the wall to steady himself. 

_Oh shit. It was all goin’ to hell in a hand-basket…_

He had money on him. If he could get a gondola back to the hotel he wouldn’t have to move around so much. Wouldn’t bleed so much neither. He took a deep breath, carefully pushed himself away from the wall, and began walking towards the nearest canal.

***

Actor searched for the young prostitute for almost two hours. He asked every prostitute he encountered about the boy, describing him to them, but no-one would admit to knowing who the youth was or where he had come from. Several of the prostitutes had seen him by the Ponte delle Tette earlier, but they could not tell Actor where he was now. Their eyes had then roamed over Actor’s body. Perhaps the youth was from out of town and had already returned home? Perhaps Signore did not need to find him. They could give Signore everything that he desired … exactly as he liked it…as many times as he wanted… In another time and place, Actor’s ego might have been flattered by their enthusiastic interest. As it was, their words did not move him at all. He thanked them for their time and then moved on. 

It was with a heavy heart that Actor finally abandoned the search. The crowds were beginning to thin now and he needed to return to the hotel. There was an outside chance that other Gestapo agents knew of his contact with the dead agent and he needed to warn Chief. Then they needed to move to a new location. If the hotel was under surveillance and his description had been circulated, he would be an easy target. He started looking for an inebriated reveller with whom he could swap costumes. The first suitable candidate made him shake his head at the irony of it all. The man was dressed as Pulcinella. The drunk was only to happy to swap clothes with Actor, the latter’s costume being a magnificent alternative to his own. 

It was only as Actor donned the costume that he realised the man had vomited on it. He took a deep breath to steady himself and immediately regretted that incautious act, wrinkling his nose in disgust. His logical mind re-asserted itself. The unsavoury state of his costume would increase the credibility of the disguise. It would also make his progress through the more crowded parts of the city easier, although he doubted that any of the gondoliers would take him in their boat in his present condition. He resigned himself to a long walk back to the hotel. A long stagger, he corrected himself. He was, after all, supposed to be drunk.

He thought again of the young prostitute, probably alone, possibly dying, and sighed softly. 

At least Chief was safe. 

***

Chief slumped to the floor in the ornate bathroom and lent back against the beautiful marble tiles, eyes closed, breath coming in agonised pants. Not wanting to be seen, he’d entered the hotel via the fire-escape and the four-storey climb had all but finished him. 

_Shit, it hurt._

Grunting in pain, he pulled up his tunic and looked down at his abdomen. A small hole, a couple of inches below his ribs and a single inch in from his side, continued to bleed sluggishly. He felt round to his back with difficulty, hissing when his hand encountered the exit wound. At least Actor wouldn’t have to dig the bullet out. 

_Fuck_. He couldn’t let Actor find him like this! He needed to change out of the costume. Come up with a story. Stop the bleeding. First, he needed to stop the bleeding... 

His vision was already starting to grey, his field of vision contracting steadily. The room spun and he fought the rising nausea. Pristine towels hung on the wall by his head but he remembered what Actor’d said about the cost of any damage coming out of Guido’s pay. He unfastened the cloak and wadded it into a pad. Easing the pad against his injured body, he lowered himself painfully onto one side and rolled onto the makeshift dressing. 

The greying world flamed an agonising red and then mercifully turned black.

***

Actor staggered up the steps of the hotel and was grateful that the costume and mask he was wearing so effectively concealed his identity. As expected, none of the gondoliers had been interested in his fare and it had taken him almost an hour to make his way back on foot. Certain that he had not been followed, he was relieved to see no obvious sign of the Gestapo watching the hotel entrance, nor anyone suspicious loitering in the lobby. Well aware that not all informants could be identified so easily, he did not drop his guard. Guido was standing behind the reception desk and talking to two of his staff when Actor approached. To his credit, the man did not so much as blink at his friend’s transformed appearance. Actor quietly asked for his room key and almost imperceptibly shook his head to forestall further enquiry. Guido dismissed his staff-members and retrieved the requested key. 

“Trouble?” he murmured as he handed it over, his lips barely moving. 

“Yes,” Actor confirmed softly. “Any messages?” His tone was now louder, his words deliberately slurred.

“Another room?” Guido asked soto voce as he busied himself looking through a stack of telegrams. 

“No,” Actor replied. “We leave tonight.” Chief’s key had not been hanging behind the desk so Actor knew that the scout would be in their suite. It would not take him long to appraise Chief of their deteriorating circumstances and then pack. If they hurried they could still make the first rendezvous with the sub… 

Guido smiled up at his old friend. “No messages, Signore. If there is anything else you require, please do not hesitate to contact me. I will be here for several hours.” His eyes conveyed the sincerity of the offer.

Actor nodded solemnly then staggered in the direction of the elevators. An elegant lady and her much younger escort were already waiting there. Actor stopped behind them, swaying gently. Upwind, it would appear, for the woman raised a discreet hand to cover her nose and then took the smallest of steps away from him. Her escort gallantly insinuated himself between the lady and Actor and offered the elevator to the con man when it arrived. Actor bowed with the over-precise care of the inebriated, staggered slightly on straightening, and entered the car alone. As the doors closed behind him he allowed himself a small sigh of relief. He leant a shoulder against the side panel and gazed at his reflection in the ornate mirror that dominated the rear wall of the elevator car. The costume was truly repulsive. 

_No wonder Chief had hated it so._

The elevator continued on its way. Actor slipped a hand into his pocket and his fingers encountered the knife he had removed from the body of the dead Gestapo agent. He pulled it out to examine it in the light. Perhaps it would give him some clue as to the identity of its owner…

Gazing down, his breath caught in his lungs, his chest constricting. Blood pounded in his ears. Mentally numb, he stared blankly at the knife in his hand. 

“Jesu, Maria, no!” 

When the lift doors opened, he sprinted to the suite.

***

Chief was floating.

Pain flared in his side and he bit back a cry. 

_Oh Shit, it hurt bad._

_Where was he?_ He couldn’t remember and felt the panic rising. _What’d happened?_

He tensed and tried to move, only to have his head encounter resistance. There was cloth against his cheek, the slow, steady beat of a heart beneath and the warmth of another’s body. 

He lifted a hand and encountered fabric. Almost instinctively, he tightened his fingers into it. 

And realized he was being carried. 

“It’s all right, Chief. You have been hurt, but you are safe now. I am here. All will be well. You are safe.”

The familiar voice washed over him like balm, calming his fear. 

_Actor._

Actor was carrying him.

He was safe.

Memory flooded back. 

“’M sorry,” he murmured. He needed to talk to Actor. Needed to explain. Needed him to know… 

But exhaustion and pain overwhelmed him and he could not stop the darkness from taking him.

***

He awoke to bright sunshine and the concerned gaze of his commanding officer.

“Welcome back.” Garrison’s voice was characteristically soft.

The pain in Chief’s side had subsided to a dull throb which pulsed in time with the one in his head. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a croak. His head was carefully lifted and a glass of water held to his parched lips. He drank deeply, desperately thirsty, the cool water soothing his dry, sore throat. When the glass was empty he was eased back down on the pillow. The simple activity exhausted him.

Knowing that Chief wouldn’t settle until he’d had a few questions answered, Garrison set about reassuring him. “We’re still in Venice. The bullet wound is healing. You lost a lot of blood and took a fever which is why you’re feeling so weak now. That’ll pass. We’re safe here. There’s no evidence that the Gestapo linked you to the dead agent.” 

Chief let the words wash over him. “How long?” 

“Five days.” 

_Five days? Shit!_

“Must’ve been some fever,” he murmured, looking longingly at the empty glass. Garrison promptly refilled it and once again lifted his head so he could drink. 

“You had us worried for a while there,” Garrison commented. 

“Nuf,” Chief breathed after drinking half of the glass. He slumped back against the pillow, wrung out, and glanced around the room. “Where’s Actor?”

Garrison did not answer immediately and his hesitation drew Chief’s gaze back to his face.

“He’s not here.” The lieutenant’s voice was carefully neutral. Garrison watched as shock and then concern registered in Chief’s dark eyes. 

“Where is he? Is he okay?”

There was a tinge of panic to his voice and it puzzled Garrison. After what Actor had said, he hadn’t expected Chief to react like this. "Take it easy. I sent him back to England with the microfilm. I figured it’d be safer that way, especially if the Gestapo here had his description.” He watched as relief flooded the ebony eyes. Again, not the reaction he’d expected… “Chief, Actor’s asked for a transfer to another team.” 

Chief gasped aloud. “Why?” He struggled to sit up, only to be gently pressed back against the pillows. 

“I hoped you could tell me,” Garrison answered quietly. “He said something had happened while you were here, something that was entirely his fault and which he deeply regretted. He said that, as a result, you wouldn’t be able to work together any longer, and then he asked if he could transfer to another team. If that wasn’t possible, he asked me to return him to prison.” He saw the shock register in Chief’s dark eyes, the remaining blood drain from the already-wan face. 

“No!” Chief whispered, chest heaving. “Weren’t his fault! He didn’t do nothing!” 

Garrison watched the young scout fight to control his emotions. “What happened?” he asked gently. Chief looked away, worrying at his bottom lip. Garrison settled back in his chair and got comfortable, knowing that Chief would not be hurried. It was a long time before the young man spoke. Even then he would not look at his commander, focusing his gaze on the large window that dominated the far wall and overlooked the Grande Canal. 

“Weren’t Actor’s fault. Was mine. I should be the one to go.” He looked at Garrison then. “Don’t send him away, Warden. I’ll go.”

Garrison frowned down at the anguished face of his scout. After his conversation with Actor, he’d assumed that the Italian had finally made a pass at Chief and Chief had rejected his advances. Uncharacteristically, Actor had steadfastly refused to go into any detail when Garrison had tried to press him, and Garrison had too much faith in his second’s innate common sense to believe he’d been foolish enough to try to force himself on Chief. 

That, and the fact that Actor wasn’t dead. 

Chief was more than capable of defending himself against unwanted attention. So why was Chief defending Actor now and saying that he was to blame for the trouble between them? 

It just didn’t make sense. 

He’d been so sure Chief reciprocated Actor’s feelings. He’d even been relieved when the mission’d come up, hoping it’d give the two men a chance to address their mutual attraction and work things out between them before the growing sexual tension started having a negative effect on their work and the rest of the team. Unfortunately, the mission seemed to have had the opposite effect. Things were worse than they’d been before and he still didn’t understand why. He needed to find out fast to stand any chance of keeping the team together. 

“Could you work in another team?” he asked Chief quietly. 

Chief looked away. He knew the answer, and what it’d cost him: the only chance he’d ever had to turn his life around, the only security and friendship he’d ever known. Despite that, he would not lie to this man. Very slowly, he shook his head and said softly, “Send me back, Warden.” 

“Back where, Chief?” Garrison wasn’t sure he was hearing this right.

Chief swallowed hard before answering but his voice did not waver. “Attica.” He looked despairingly at the open window. 

_Actor was worth it._

Garrison had a damn good idea how much it’d cost Chief to say those words and was more than a little shocked to hear them spoken. Mirroring Chief’s earlier gesture, he slowly shook his head. “Not going to happen. Neither of you is leaving the team. You have to work this out so you can both stay.” He caught and held his young scout’s agonised gaze. “Chief, what happened that was so bad that Actor thinks he has to leave?” 

Chief looked away, face twisting in pain. When it was clear that he was not going to answer, Garrison spoke again. 

“Look, I know how Actor feels about you. If he made a pass at you and you turned him down, I’m sure he’ll take the hint. He won’t do it again. But does it have to mean you can’t work together?” 

Chief stared at him as if he’d grown two heads. _Deja vu_ , Garrison thought wearily. _Here we go again…_

“You… know how Actor feels about me?” Chief repeated slowly.

Garrison nodded. “Yes. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” 

If anything, Chief looked even more shocked now. “How?” he whispered incredulously.

“How?” Garrison echoed with a half-smile. “I’ve got eyes, Chief. Watching you guys is part of my job.” 

“No… I meant… how does he look at me?” 

Garrison searched Chief’s face and found only bewildered confusion there. _Jesus..._ Garrison thought, _You really don’t know, do you?_ He took a deep breath before answering. “Actor cares about you, Chief. A lot. More than he’s cared about anyone in a very long time. More than he thinks he should.” He hesitated to say ‘love’, not wanting to put words into Actor’s mouth that the Italian himself had not used, but he did not doubt that love was precisely what Actor felt for Chief.

Chief gazed back, his distress undiminished. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes and cast another despairing glance at the window. “Oh, shit,” he breathed. He hadn’t realised. He should’ve known… 

“Chief?” Garrison prompted. 

“Didn’t know,” Chief answered. “Thought it was just me.” 

“Just you?” Garrison probed gently, hopes rising. 

“Just me wanting him. I love him.” There, he’d finally said it. He could barely breathe. It was almost impossible for him to look at the Warden but he forced himself to do so. “I love Actor,” he repeated. 

Garrison just blinked at him. 

“So what’s the problem? If Actor wants you and you want Actor, why does Actor want to leave?” 

Chief thought for a long while before answering. “Didn’t tell him. Guess he doesn’t know.” 

Garrison rolled his eyes. _Oh, for a regular command…_

“You okay with this?” Chief asked him. He was more than a little dazed by the dual revelations that Actor loved him and the Warden knew he loved Actor and didn’t seem to mind… 

Garrison nodded. “If it’s what you both want, and it doesn’t affect your work, I’m okay with this.”

Chief slumped back against the pillows, wishing desperately that Actor was there so he could talk to him, tell him how he felt. A smile played on his lips. _Actor loved him._

Garrison watched his youngest and his gaze softened. “So, will you be able to work this out with Actor when we get back?” 

Chief nodded. “Sure Warden.”

 _Or die tryin’_.

***

It was a week before Chief was well enough to travel, three days more after that before the weather let up long enough to allow them to be extracted by sub. Chief had spent the last two days pacing and prowling as he nervously anticipated his reunion with Actor.

_What if the Warden’d been mistaken? What if Actor didn’t love him?_

Even now, as the jeep hurtled along the narrow country roads that wound through the hills skirting the edge of the estate, Chief was nervously chewing on a knuckle, his gaze restless, his body as taut as a wire. 

Garrison had given up telling the young man to settle down. Chief simply ignored him. Eventually he’d resigned himself to just watching his youngest fret. _Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. If Chief wore himself out now, there’d be less chance of him killing Actor if they couldn’t settle their differences…_

The army officer chuckled to himself. 

_Yeah, like that was going to happen. Once Actor knew how Chief felt about him, he’d have him in his bed before his feet touched the priceless oriental carpet the Italian had purloined for his bedroom…_

He’d arranged 48-hour passes for Casino and Goniff to get them out of the mansion and give Actor and Chief a little privacy. He’d also requested a meeting with Actor at 1300 so the Italian would be there when they got back. The sooner Actor and Chief talked, the better. Which would leave him free to catch up on the pile of paperwork that had undoubtedly accumulated during his brief sojourn in Italy. If he worked at the desk in the library he’d be on the opposite side of the building to the bedrooms. Assuming, of course, that Actor and Chief wanted to make out in the bedroom. With Actor there was no telling. The library had an open fire and a thick rug and Actor was an incurable romantic. _If it’d been up to him…_

He firmly squashed that line of thought and helped himself to another cup of coffee from the thermos. He really needed to get out more. There was that pretty little thing who worked at the Red Cross station in Archbury who was always happy to see him... He smiled to himself. Maybe a 48-hour pass would be good for him too… 

When they finally got back to the mansion it was something of an anti-climax to find that Actor wasn’t even there.

***

Actor fretted all the way back to the mansion. Craig had called the meeting for 1300 and it was already well past two. The jeep had developed a puncture and he had been disgusted to discover that the toolkit necessary to fit the spare had been removed from the vehicle. A three-mile hike had brought him to a farm where he’d been able to borrow appropriate alternatives, but by the time he had changed the wheel and repatriated the borrowed tools, he had known that he would be abominably late.

Dirty and disgruntled, he drew up in front of the mansion with a face like thunder and the unfamiliar sensation of butterflies in his stomach. He strode through the front door to be met by his irate commander who had been informed of his return by the guard post at the entrance to the estate. One look at the dishevelled appearance of the normally immaculate Italian forestalled Garrison’s angry words. 

“Forgive me, Lieutenant,” Actor began. “The jeep developed a puncture and there were no tools with which to change the tyre.” He dragged a hand through his hair in exasperation, liberally smearing grease across his forehead. Realising too late what he had done he swore quietly but vehemently in Italian. 

Garrison waited patiently for him to finish, knowing that much of the tension in the man had nothing to do with the puncture or his tardy arrival. 

Actor’s eyes restlessly scanned the corridor. _Looking for Chief_ , Garrison realised. It was time he put the man out of his misery. 

“He’s in the library, asleep.” He watched as the aristocratic Italian tensed then looked away, his eyes narrowing. “Actor, he loves you. He didn’t get a chance to tell you before he got shot. He’s exhausted, he’s hurt and he’s desperately afraid that he’s ruined the best thing that ever happened to him, so go easy with him." 

Garrison had never seen Actor lost for words before, so what followed was a rare treat. The Italian’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened and closed again without him uttering a single word. 

“In the library,” Garrison repeated.

Actor took a deep breath and nodded. “The library,” he echoed, his voice strained. “Are you sure?” 

Garrison smiled gently. “That he’s in the library or that he loves you?” 

The quiet desperation and fragile hopefulness in Actor’s eyes were more than the young officer could bear. Without waiting for the older man to reply, he added, “Yes, to both questions.” 

Actor turned in the direction of the library but Garrison’s call held him back.

“Wash your hands first.” 

Glancing down at his oil and grime-smeared fingers Actor could only nod distractedly. 

_Chief loved him._

Garrison headed for his office, whistling happily.

****

In the library Chief had tired of standing at the window and watching for approaching vehicles. He’d expected Actor to be at the mansion when he and the Warden got back. Had even psyched himself up for it. He’d been deeply disappointed and hugely disconcerted to find Actor gone.

The waiting was killing him. 

He wandered over to the large, comfortable armchair that stood beside the fireplace. Actor’s pipe and the murder mystery he’d been reading before the Venice mission were lying on the small side-table beside the chair. Chief trailed a finger over them. 

_Cold. Lifeless._

Without the man, the objects were nothing. His fingers travelled to the blanket that hung from the back of the chair and he slowly stroked the muted plaid. Impulsively, he sank down into the armchair and pulled the blanket over him. The cloth was warm and soft against his skin, nothing like the harsh, army blankets they’d originally been issued with. He rubbed his cheek against the fabric. It smelt, just faintly, of Actor. Chief closed his eyes with a sigh. _So damn tired_. He pulled the blanket closer to his body and fell asleep without even realising it. 

To awaken to the tender gaze of his lover and the gentle touch of Actor’s hand on his forehead. 

“How are you feeling?” Actor asked softly.

Chief looked up at him and nodded. “Okay,” he murmured. Overwhelmed by the emotions battering his body he could not hold Actor’s gaze. Closing his eyes he turned his head away. His chin was cradled by a finger and gently turned back. 

“No, Chief. Please do not turn away,” Actor said quietly. “We can neither of us run from this.” His words were calm, his tone compassionate. “Nor do I want to. We must talk.” 

With a shuddering breath Chief forced himself to open his eyes and look into the face of the man he loved. 

“Why, Chief?” Actor asked him quietly. “Why did you let me take you?”

Chief thought about that for a long time, knowing Actor’d wait for his answer. _Man had more patience than anyone else he knew, even the Warden._ And just like the Warden, Actor deserved the truth. He took a deep breath and replied. “Because I wanted you.” _Because I love you._

Actor frowned. “But why the subterfuge?” 

Chief looked away, focused his gaze on the large French windows that looked out over the manicured lawns that fronted the mansion. He swallowed hard, this conversation every bit as difficult as he had imagined it would be. “Didn’t want to spoil what we already had.” 

“Why did you not tell me how you felt?” Actor asked. “Did you think I would refuse you?” In trying to rationalise Chief’s actions it had not occurred to Actor that Chief might actually want him. In his darkest moments, sitting beside the unconscious man and watching him toss in pained delirium, he had convinced himself that Chief had somehow realised that he desired him and, through some misguided sense of obligation, had given himself to Actor for that reason alone. Craig’s words in the hallway had opened Actor’s eyes to a very different possibility. _But what if Craig was wrong…?_

Chief shook his head. “Knew you’d want me. Just didn’t wanna be another notch on your belt.” 

Actor was both shocked and distressed by that revelation. “Do you truly believe that that is all you would have been to me?” he questioned softly.

Now it was Chief’s turn to frown. “Ain’t that – isn’t that – what all your lovers are? You love them then you leave them. Every time.”

Dark eyes that were impossibly sad locked with Actor’s own.

“Not this time,” Actor said quietly. 

Now it was Chief’s turn to question. “Why?” _Why would it be any different this time? Why would it be any different with me?_

“Because I love you.”

Chief looked at him with eyes that struggled to comprehend the enormity of his statement. “Why?” he whispered at length. “I ain’t nothing.”

Actor slowly shook his head. “That is not true. You are brave and loyal and selfless. There is a strength about you, a quiet determination, an indomitable spirit, that I find inspirational. You have a quick mind and a delight in knowledge that rivals my own. You are incredible. You are amazing.” He stroked a finger gently down Chief’s cheek. “You are everything to me, Rainey. Everything.”

Chief found himself drowning in the love and the longing that shone in the older man’s eyes. 

“I know that you will find this hard to believe, and that my behaviour towards previous lovers will hardly inspire confidence, but what I feel for you is neither infatuation nor lust, though I do desire you greatly. I love you, Rainey. I love you and want to be with you, for as long as you want to be with me.” 

Chief could barely breathe. _Warden’d been right..._ “Love you too, man,” he whispered. “Want you for always.”

 _Dear God. Craig had been right._ An exultant Actor smiled down at Chief. "Then always it shall be.” 

He lifted Chief’s hand to his mouth and gently kissed the palm, his eyes smouldering with desire. “And when you are ready… there are many ways I will make love to you.” 

“Ready now,” Chief moaned softly, eyes darkening with passion. 

_Just as they did in the alley_ , Actor thought, and felt the blood pool in his loins. He brushed the dark hair from Chief’s brow and gently stroked a thumb across his cheek. “You are so beautiful.” He was rewarded with an alluring blush that was unexpectedly endearing. Wisely, he did not comment on it. 

“Ain’t had much experience,” Chief admitted painfully. _What if Actor wanted a more experienced lover?_

“Then I shall delight in teaching you,” Actor replied softly, “and we shall learn together, for I, too, want to learn what pleases you.” 

Chief sighed his relief. “Liked everything we’ve done so far,” he breathed with a smile. 

Actor’s laugh rumbled in his chest. “As have I, and whilst I can’t promise to take you in costume, against a wall, every time we make love, I am sure that we can find suitable alternatives. We will, however, need to be a little less vocal in our enthusiasm.” He saw Chief frown and knew immediately what was bothering him. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. The others will not think any less of us for being together, nor do I think they will treat us any differently.” 

“The Warden knows,” Chief admitted.

“That does not surprise me,” Actor said. “I suspected that he knew how I felt about you when he selected us for the mission.“ He smiled down at Chief. “Craig is no fool.” 

Chief huffed. “Maybe you taught him too well.” 

Actor laughed out loud. “Indeed,” he agreed with a smile. “Although I cannot take all the credit. The man has a natural talent for such things. Also petty larceny and the confidence game,” he reflected. “If I was not so accomplished myself, I might feel threatened.” Actor’s stomach chose that moment to rumble noisily which made both men laugh. “I have not eaten yet,” he offered by way of explanation. In truth, he had had little appetite since returning from Venice. “Are you hungry?” 

“Not for food,” Chief said pointedly, his eyes devouring Actor. “That axle-grease on your face?” 

Actor could not stop looking back at him. “I had to change a tyre on the jeep,” he murmured. “I should bathe.” He stroked a hand against Chief’s cheek. “How is your wound healing?” 

The intensity of Actor’s gaze was going unsettling things to Chief’s groin. “Good,” Chief breathed. “Good enough to join you in the shower.” 

Actor’s eyes turned to flame. Standing, he offered his hand to Chief. “Come then.” The corners of his mouth turned up mischievously as he recalled their earlier conversation. “I have neglected your education quite shamefully of late.” 

Chief grinned back and rose. 

“You gonna test me on the last lesson?” 

Garrison heard Actor’s laugh from his office.

*** FIN ***


End file.
